Existing
by caffeineaddict13
Summary: She would face the ends of the earth to be human again. Rosalie's thoughts on Bella and Jake.


**A/N: **So this is something new. I've always wondered how Rosalie felt about Jacob. Um, also, this excludes Breaking Dawn. Tell me how it is.

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It's not that Rosalie Hale _hates_ Isabella Swan.

It's just that she's really fucking _jealous_ sometimes.

Rosalie knows she's the most beautiful girl in the world. And it's not an exaggeration—she doesn't _need_ to count the number of catcalls and whistles she's gotten (and she wouldn't be able to, anyway) to know that it's true. She can see it clearly every time she looks in the mirror: from her long, gold hair and her perfect skin and body, she is absolutely flawless.

But Rosalie doesn't _care_ about all that. She isn't the vain little princess that scoffed because her diamond ring wasn't big enough that she used to be when she was human. And everyone thinks she's so stuck up, but that's not it. She's just so fucking _depressed_ all the time. She is going to survive forever as nothing but a pretty girl. No ambition, no _real_ family left, no purpose to _live_—if you could even _call_ it living, this dead-end existence that slows every day into an endless, drowning pattern.

All Rosalie wants is to be _gone_. But she's so scared and cowardly that she can't even _do_ it. She was almost _impressed_ when Edward went to the Volturi and asked for death. Because perfect Rosalie Hale is far too afraid to give up her lovely face.

And then there's Bella.

Sweet, _innocent_ Bella with her big brown eyes and pretty _blush_. Bella with her clumsiness that everyone seemed to find so fucking _endearing_; Bella with her sleep-talking and selfishness, Bella with the _blood_ in her veins and the scent that no one can resist. Bella who gets to keep her thoughts to herself; Bella who falls in love with the _vampire_; Bella who takes _everything for granted_.

Rosalie understands Edward's attraction to her. As much as she _hates_ to think that a boy, even one she didn't want, could pick _human Bella_ over _princess Rosalie_, she _understands_. Edward had lived over a hundred years knowing every little thought in the minds around him. He knew when girls wanted to fuck him (which was often), and when they thought the things they were too afraid to say. And then came _Bella_, this insignificant little girl, and he _doesn't even know what she is thinking_.

It makes sense that he would want her. Falling in _love_ was just the natural thing to do. Bella seems different to him because she _is_ different, and it's _obvious_ that he would find her silence so intriguing.

What Rosalie doesn't understand is the werewolf. She can hate him all she wants but she doesn't deny that he is _beautiful_. And he's so head over heels for Bella she can sense it a mile away, hear the howls and screams when she breaks his heart, see the perfect servitude in his eyes every second they lie on her.

But Bella_ isn't_ sweet. She _isn't _innocent or endearing and she _certainly_ isn't smart. If she was smart, she would realize what she's giving up, she would take Jacob's hand and run away and she _wouldn't look back_, not at the monsters she fell in love with, not at the soulless existence she would be giving up. To Rosalie, it's not a contest. She would face the ends of the earth to be human again. And Bella doesn't even _think it_ _fucking over._

The day they got married, Rosalie's throat burned from something other than thirst. She was so _disgusted_ with the girl, so _ashamed_ and _broken_. She loved Edward like the brother that he had become, but she couldn't watch as this _stupid little girl_ gave up her _life_ to be with him.

No one noticed when she left the ceremony. No one noticed when she sat at the edge of the house and _cried_—dry, wrecking, hopeless sobs that shook her body and reminded her of all the things she _couldn't do_. And that was when she decided that she really fucking _hated_ Isabella Swan.

Rosalie writes her a letter: _you know you're an idiot, right? You know you will never get this life back; you will be dead for every day of forever, and you will regret it for longer than that_—and she throws it out because there is _nothing she can do_.

Her breath catches in her throat when they come back from the honeymoon and she's still _alive_. She doesn't really understand _why_ this girl's life means so much to her. Let Bella make the same mistake that Rosalie could not, let her scream until she no longer _needs_ to breathe, let her feel Edward's cold arms and _forget what it's like to be alive_.

It's not that she feels _bad_ for her. But she finds herself staring at Jacob Black and his tall, dark frame, watching how long Bella holds on to him, wanting to _be_ her, not because she doesn't love Emmett, but because this fragile, _human_ love is something that she never had to have. It's so different from the strict _bond_ that holds her and her family together. This love could end at any second, and yet Rosalie _knows _that it won't. Jacob Black is giving up his heart for a girl that won't even give him a _promise_. Rosalie _knows_ what it's like to have someone _lust _for her, someone who won't get anything in return, but no one has ever _loved_ her like _that_. And she envies Bella. Because she has a _choice_.

The day Bella is changed Rosalie's dead heart breaks for Jacob Black. And she finds him, alone in the woods, crying the way that she _wishes_ she could, hard and _wet_, and she sits next to him and ignores the stench because Jacob and Rosalie are very much the same.

They both would _die_ for something that they can never ever have.

And fucking _Bella Swan_ won't even _live_ for it.

--

**END**


End file.
